


Chin Up

by reconquer



Category: Ranma 1/2
Genre: Bisexuality, F/F, F/M, First Time, Genderswap, Light Dom/sub, PWP, guys the lesbianism of ranma/akane......, oh speaking of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-05-12 03:49:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19220959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reconquer/pseuds/reconquer
Summary: Ranma can’t remember how he got here. He remembers coming to Akane’s room to steal her hairbrush, he remembers her shouting at him to get out and stop stealing her stuff, he remembers starting to fight with her.What he can’t remember is how he ended up on her bed, their lips pressed together so hard that their teeth are clacking.





	Chin Up

**Author's Note:**

> (pokes my head into the ranma 1/2 fandom) im 30 years late here's some porn

Ranma can’t remember how he got here. He remembers coming to Akane’s room to steal her hairbrush, he remembers her shouting at him to get out and stop stealing her stuff, he remembers starting to fight with her.

What he _can’t_ remember is how he ended up on her bed, their lips pressed together so hard that their teeth are clacking. He’s achingly hard, and he just knows she can see it through his sleep shorts. Her thighs are thick and muscular around his hips and he tightens his hands on them, fingernails digging in, wanting to leave a mark.

“ _Ranma,_ ” Akane grunts, sitting up and whipping his hands off her in one smooth motion, pinning his wrists above his head. He can’t stop his hips from twitching at that. “It hurts when you do that!”

“Sorry,” he breaths. Akane smirks and pinches his nipple through his shirt. He gasps and throws his head to the side.

“Geez, you’re really sensitive, huh?” She bunches Ranma’s tank top up under his armpits so she can rub him more. “You’re just like a girl.”

“Oh, shut up,” Ranma growls. Akana slides forward a bit on his lap and they both gasp—his dick is pressed up between Akane’s legs, and he swears he can feel her heat through the layers of fabric.

“Shit,” Akane hisses. Ranma flushes at that, at knowing that she’s as flustered as he is. He fights out of her grip and grabs at her hips, making her roll down on him again. Her hands slide off his chest and down his stomach until they reach his waistband; Ranma’s hold on her slackens.

Her hands trail over his dick through his shorts and he squirms. It already feels so good, so much better than when he does it himself. She starts rubbing him and his eyes fall shut, and he knows he’s making stupid sounds, but he can’t help it.

 _Why haven’t we done this before?_ Ranma thinks, but, no, he can think of a few reasons, actually.

“Ranma.” Akane’s voice snaps him out of his head, and she slows her own movements, merely pressing down.

“Huh?” Ranma can barely catch his breath—no wonder the guys at school talk about this all the time.

She catches his eye, Ramna nods, and she starts taking him out of his shorts. Ranma’s pretty sure his brain is about to short-circuit, and, sure enough, the moment her bare hand is on him, he has to grind his teeth and think about every unsexy thing he can think of to not lose it on the spot.

Akane starts a rhythm, stops for a moment to spit on her hand, which, _fuck_ , and then goes back to it. She’s slow and methodical, probably more curious than anything. Ranma’s a mess—he knows he’s sweating, and he’s biting into the meat of his palm to keep from saying anything too embarrassing. They’re both still fully clothed, for fuck’s sake. He hates being a teenager sometimes.

“Have you ever done this as a girl?” Akane says quickly, almost so quickly Ranma doesn’t understand.

“Wh-what?” He didn’t think he could get any redder, but another wave of heat rushes to his cheeks.

“You heard me.” Akane pouts. Much to Ranma’s chagrin, she’s starting to slow down.

“Uh, no.”

“Even to yourself?” Ranma just shakes his head at that.

“Why not?” Akane’s hand is basically just resting on the base of Ranma’s dick now (it’s weird, okay, but still exhilarating to have her hand there).

“Because I don’t wanna, that’s why!” Ranma pushes himself up on his elbows. “And it...seems complicated.”

“Oh, it’s not,” Akana says, tilting her head a little. The thought of Akane—of _Akane_ makes him dizzy, and his dick twitches against her hand without his permission. She looks down at it, then back up at him. “Oh?”

“Aw, shut up.”

“I can teach you, y’know,” Akane states and resumes her pumping. Ranma sputters and lets his arms give out.

“Why would you wanna do that?” Ranma asks. It’s Akane’s turn to flush, and Ranma laughs a little. “You like that?”

“Shut your mouth, Ranma,” Akane snaps, pumping harder. Ranma gasps—if she doesn’t stop talking to him like this, she’s going to give him a complex. “You’re so full of it, you know that?”

With that, she ducks her head and pops her mouth on the head of Ranma’s dick, sucking a little. Ranma thrashes, his eyes rolling back, and comes before she has the chance to pull away.

There’s a beat of silence. Ranma’s whole body his buzzing, sweat cooling on his skin.

“You fucking jerk!” Ranma sits up enough to see Akane, still between his legs, her face and bangs a mess of come. Ranma makes a weak sound and his softening dick twitches between his legs, which Akane notices (because of _course_ she notices).

“You are such an asshole,” she growls, hitting him once on the cheek, but it’s weaker than usual. Ranma watches her, dumbfounded on the bed, wipe her face. She’s all red, even down to her chest.

“Akane,” Ranma starts.

“Just get out,” she shouts. “I should’ve known you were gonna be a jerk.”

“Aw, Akane, come on—”

“Leave!” Ranma’s hauled up and off the bed and shoved out the door, tank top still rumpled somewhere around his middle. “And take the stupid hairbrush with you!”

 

It takes a few days for the two of them to act normal around each other. It doesn’t help that Ranma has gotten off to the thought of what happened every night this week. He thinks about her hand around his dick, of them getting farther, his fingers inside her, her fingers inside _him_ —

He comes thinking about that one night, about Akane putting her long fingers inside him with her thumb pressing against his clit.

Afterwards, he stews in shame as his jizz cools on his stomach.

 

Ranma’s pouting in his room. His stupid father kicked him into the pond, _again,_ but Nabiki is taking one of her signature hot baths, and Kasumi’s in the middle of this week’s meal prepping, so Ranma’s hot water will have to wait.

He settles on his bed with his schoolwork, annoyed. He can’t read and lie on his stomach when he’s a girl because pressing against the mattress that hard hurts his chest, so he sprawls out sideways, supporting his head with one hand and his textbook in the other. He idly wonders if he could use his boobs as a shelf and read like that.

“Oh,” Akane says, frozen outside Ranma’s open door. “Hey.”

“Hey, yourself,” Ranma says. Akane doesn’t move. “What’re you doing?”

Akane finally moves, shrugging. They’re practically back to normal now, bickering and chatting like they normally do. Sometimes Ranma flushes when he sees her hands around a pencil or the strip of exposed thigh when she sits on the mats in front of the kitchen table, but mostly he thinks he has it under control.

“Nothing.” Akane comes in and shuts the door behind her with her foot. “Wanna hang out?”

Ranma’s completely frozen now. Is he reading into this wrong? He’s been thinking about it, has she? Does she want this? Does _he_ want this?

Ranma’s head is spinning. He sits up slowly, setting the book on the floor.

“And do what, exactly?” He asks. Akane pouts, jutting her chin out just a little.

“If you’re gonna play dumb—” Akane starts, motioning to turn around.

“No, wait!” Ranma’s mouth moves without his permission. “I just, uh. You really wanna do it with me like this?”

Ranma watches color creep up the back of Akane’s neck. Holy _shit._

“Shit, you really are a tomboy in every sense of the word!” Ranma grins.

Akane whirls around. “Shut up! I know you like both, too.”

Ranma blinks, hard. “Excuse me?”

“I see you looking at boys! You like the attention, you’re attracted to them!”

Ranma leaps to his feet. “I am not!”

Akane crosses the room, getting up in Ranma’s face. Ranma hates that he’s smaller than her like this, and holds his ground.

“You can’t lie to me, Ranma! I _know_ you like boys, and if you can like boys, then I can like girls!”

“But I’m _not_ a girl!”

Akane shouts through gritted teeth and lets her face fall into her hands. “That’s not my point!”

“Then what is your point?” Ranma crosses his arms, self-conscious about how it pushes his breasts together, but too stubborn to take up on the flinch.

“I just.” Akane fidgets and deflates a little. “Listen, we don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. Obviously.”

“I—I want to,” Ranma blurts.

Akane can’t help but smile a little, and a dizzying wave of affection crashes over Ranma.

Fuck.

It’s Ranma who initiates the kiss. It’s soft, and weird that he has to tilt his head up to kiss her. Akane settles her hand on the dip of Ranma’s waist and Ranma fists her collar.

“Can we at least take our clothes off this time?” Ranma breaths, tugging at Akane’s shirt.

Akane rolls her eyes. “You’ve seen my boobs before.”

“Yeah, well, you’ve seen _mine_ before, so how about I keep my shirt on, too?”

Akane balks at that and grimaces. She takes her shirt off and motions at Ranma to do the same.

They stand half-naked in the middle of Ranma’s bedroom, their families bustling on the other side of the thin paper door, and stare at each other.

“This is stupid,” Ranma finally says.

“Then stop being stupid,” Akane snaps. She grabs Ranma’s hand and leads him to lie on the bed. Their breasts push up against each other and Ranma gasps. He feels—he feels fucking _weird._ His legs press together without his permission, trying to relieve the pressure. His pelvis almost feels like it’s squeezing itself together, and he can feel himself starting to get wet against his shorts. He’s starting to regret going commando, but he always does in his pajamas, and it’s not like he has girl underwear, anyway.

Akane rolls so Ranma’s on top of her this time. He can feel her hands push her shorts up and grope at his ass, and Ranma pulls away to moan. He gets his hands under himself and cups one of Akane’s tits, flicking at her nipple.

The internal squeezing feeling is back, but localized between his legs. Akane gropes him again, running her hands up Ranma’s ass before pulling his cheeks apart and letting them come back together.

Girls’ bodies are looser than men’s, Ranma has learned, and he winces at the feeling of his ass and upper thighs jiggling. Akane sneaks a finger under Ranma’s shorts and presses it against his hole.

Ranma hisses and sits straight up, scooting farther up Akane’s abdomen, away from her hands.

“Are you okay?” Akane pushes herself to sit up, too.

“Yeah, I just,” Ranma stutters. He’s dizzyingly turned on and feels hot all over, but he’s overwhelmed by the newness of the situation. It feels insane that he’s not hard, because if he were a boy right now, he knows he’d be leaking all over his stomach. Instead, he feels wound tight and kind of tingly, but it’s like it’s his whole body. “It feels...different.”

“Well, yeah,” Akane says. “Do you want to stop?”

“Uh-uh,” Ranma says, shaking his head.

Akane snorts. “Okay.”

“Shut up!” Ranma protests. “Don’t act like you weren’t enjoying yourself.”

Akane rolls her eyes, and her hands return to Ranma’s thighs, shifting him so he’s fully on her lap. She kisses him, and one hand trails upward, cupping Ranma’s breast. She swipes her finger across his nipple and he jerks. This had felt good as a guy, but as a girl, it feels _great._ Akane replaces her hand with her mouth, and Ranma is lost in heat. His clit is throbbing, his hips twitching without his permission. He clenches a fist in Akane’s hair.

He can’t help but feel like Akane’s done all the work both times they’ve done this, but his mind is sidetracked when he feels two fingers swipe at him roughly through his shorts.

“You’re wet,” Akane says, faintly surprised.

“What’d you think was gonna happen?”

Akane just shrugs and starts wriggling his shorts off his hips. Ranma pulls and pulls until he’s on his back and Akane’s hovering over him, holding his shorts. She tosses them off to the side and sits back on her heels, readjusting.

She puts both her hands between Ranma’s legs, holding his thighs apart. The edge of her fingernail skates the edge of Ranma’s labia and he whimpers. He can smell himself, trapping him in a feedback loop of arousal and disgust.

“Do you want this, Ranma?” Akane asks again.

“Yes, yes, fuck,” Ranma gasps. He can feel Akane’s hands tighten on his thighs, and—wait, is Akane getting _off_ on this? He’d thought she was just making sure or being polite, but maybe….

A finger swipes between his lips and Ranma can’t help but make a noise. It doesn’t feel like much of anything, just parting, but he can tell how wet he is by how slickly Akane’s finger moves against him. She does it again, then pulls his legs apart a little more, before smoothly sliding one finger in.

Ranma groans, loudly, and thrashes, but it’s over too soon. She pulls her finger out at the same time her other hand goes up to cover his mouth.

“Shut _up,_ ” Akane hisses. “Don’t be so loud.”

“Okay, okay,” Ranma babbles.

Akane pushes her finger in again and Ranma clamps down a noise. It feels _crazy_ , and he’s panting by the time she puts in a second finger. His hole stretches around it uncomfortably for a second before more wetness pulses out and smooths the way.

“Ahh, shit, Akane,” Ranma breaths.

“Feel good?” Akane’s face is flushed red, and she sounds out of breath, despite having not been touched.

“Y-yeah,” Ranma stammers.

“Can I…” Akane’s face is hovering dangerously close to his hips, her fingers still working.

“Uhhh,” Ranma says, nodding weakly. He doesn’t really know what she wants, but she hasn’t had a bad idea yet.

“Okay. Just don’t lose it instantly like last time,” Akane says, smirking a little.

“Shuddup,” Ranma slurs.

“I’ve never done this before,” Akane says quietly.

“Okay. Neither have I.”

Akane laughs, then puts her mouth on Ranma.

He’s not sure what he was expecting, but he wasn’t expecting _that._  Her tongue slides over his clit and he jerks. She does it again, and again, until Ranma is completely boneless against the futon.

Akane’s tongue moves in tandem with her fingers. On a particularly slow suck, she hooks her fingers inside of him and he’s _this_ close to screaming.

Ranma’s wound so tight, gasping and sweating against his sheets. He cracks an eye open and watches Akane’s dark head bob between his legs. Then she hits him _just right_ and the tightness coiled in him sparks, taking over his whole body. His eyes roll back and he feels like he’s floating for a moment before it all comes crashing back down, kicking out as he pulses around Akane.

It takes a second for Ranma to come back to himself. His whole body is tingling, and the room is a little out of focus.

“Ranma?” Ranma opens his eyes. Akane’s still between his legs, her mouth and chin wet. “Was it good?”

Ranma nods blearily. Akane visibly relaxes.

“Ah, fuck, Akane,” Ranma says. “C’mere.”

He pulls until she’s seated on his pelvis and ungracefully shoves his hand into Akane’s shorts. She’s wet, and it’s so different than feeling his own wetness, a heady rush of satisfaction and arousal. He finds her clit and circles it with two fingers until she comes with her face buried in the crook of Ranma’s shoulder.

She lays on top of him for a while, both of them breathing heavily. Ranma lets himself feel her; her skin is so soft, and she’s not really all that flat-chested, despite Ranma’s comments.

“We should get up before someone finds us,” Akane says.

“You’re right,” Ranma says. Even so, they lay there for a few more minutes before searching for their clothes.

“That was really fine?” Akane asks as she pulls her shirt over her head.

“I told you already, I liked it,” Ranma says. He pulls out a new pair of shorts from his drawer—the ones he was wearing are going to have to go in the wash. “Geez, stop worrying so much. I mean, you still like me as a guy, right?”

Akane’s silent.

“Right, Akane?” Ranma pushes.

“Yeah,” Akane finally says. “Yeah. I do. I liked both.”

“Well, good, ‘cause the fact is that I am both.”

“What?” Akane gasps.

Ranma freezes, realizing what he’d just said. “That’s not—I’m—I’m not—”

“You liked it that much?”

Ranma’s shoulders are inching their way to his ears, his face flushing red again.

“That’s not what I meant! I’m a guy!”

Akane laughs. “I know, idiot.”

“Yeesh.” Ranma collapses back onto his futon. “What’s a guy gotta do to get a bath around here?”

“All yours, buddy!” Nibiki slides the door open, wearing an oversized shirt and dripping her hair all of the floor. “Are you two always going to be this loud, by the way?”

“Get _out_ , Nibiki!” Akane screams, nearly tripping over herself to chase her sister. Ranma, now beet red, sinks into his mattress. He’s _never_ going to live this down.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! after a lifetime of being an anime fan i JUST started watching ranma 1/2 this show was meant to be fic'd. if u wanna drop a line my tumblr is @sophelstien!


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